


Hot and Heavy

by cinereous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Mid-Canon, PWP, Spoilers, Trampling, Treat, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20618675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinereous/pseuds/cinereous
Summary: Akira buys a weapon for their newest Phantom Thief in the hopes of earning his trust. While taking it for a test drive he learns all sorts of new and exciting things about what Akechi is in to.





	Hot and Heavy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KelpieChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/gifts).

Having Akechi as their newest addition to the Phantom Thieves was nerve wracking. It felt very much like keeping a pet scorpion and praying it didn’t decide to sting you. It was all the more stressful knowing they were going after someone Makoto had a close relationship to.  
  
Still, Akira could never argue that Akechi had bad ideas. For all that he talked like an absolute nerd, he was incredibly smart and knew the system and how the police and government operated. He was inside it and had first hand knowledge of the day to day workings. He knew exactly what stories they were fabricating and their thoughts behind the rewards for information they put out.  
  
A scorpion he might be, but Akechi was useful. Akira just wished he could trust him.  
  
Trust was earned, but protection was not. The day after taking a look at Sae’s huge casino palace, Akira had gone straight to Iwai's shop to look around. It wasn't that Akechi was unarmed. He'd seen the bizarre laser sword he carried. But he would bet an entire chest worth of Thin Gold that Iwai had something better.  
  
As it turned out, he did.  
  
Akira bought the gorgeous quasar saber, though it felt incredibly silly, given this one was treated and packaged much like a children's toy. It looked out of place here in Untouchable where Iwai insisted that weapon models were a mature hobby for enthusiasts and not a childish past time.  
  
Honestly, it made Akira smile to know Akechi's weapon in the real world was nothing more than a goofy light up saber that made 'thwoom' noises and required batteries.  
  
That night, he sent a text to Akechi requesting that he meet him in Shibuya where their usual entrance to Mementos was. He was eager to try it out on something impressive, but he'd rather be safe when it was just the two of them.  
  
School felt like an exercise in patience when he had plans. Akira did his best to pay attention, but his mind was a million miles away, fixated on the local celebrity detective. It was like he had become one of Akechi’s besotted fans. He couldn't keep his mind away from him for two minutes at a time. It didn't matter if it was just a passing chuckle over his long nosed mask or a genuine curiosity as to where his school was located, he was well and truly distracted.  
  
By the time the school day was over, Akira felt driven mad with his own questions and irritability. He flew out of Shujin with only a hastily tossed goodbye to Ann on his way out. The train was crowded and uncomfortable, but eventually Akira arrived at the station, walking up the steps to loiter in wait.  
  
In the end, it took a good forty-five minutes for Akechi to arrive. Akira didn't know why he had made such an effort to arrive so quickly. Akechi was beloved by all, and his school was probably several stops away. Still, it felt oddly good to be here first and be the one waiting with a subtle smirk on his face.  
  
Akechi looked entirely unbothered, approaching with a vaguely shy smile tugging at his lips and his hair windblown. Given it was practically November, the weather was quite cold, and the high pink color to the tops of Akechi's cheeks made Akira oddly feel like squirming. He jammed his hands into his pockets, pulling his phone out of one to start typing in their destination.  
  
"I bought you a sword. I thought we might go get a quick idea of whether it's any good. Do you have the time for that? I know your time is valuable," he offered, as politely as he could when he wanted desperately to sneer that his time could be used for things other than planning their downfall. Instead, he forced his smile to go a little further towards charming, delighting to see the pink of Akechi's face deepen.  
  
"Oh! I see. I am so humbled that you would go out of your way for such a thing. I couldn't possibly turn down such a kind gift. Please, lead the way."  
  
The saccharine highs and lows of his voice were oddly soothing. Akira grinned and reached out to grab Akechi's gloved hand, tapping the button to initiate the travel over to Mementos. The world swam and bled around them, hurting his eyes while pressure pushed inward like they were in the far depths of the ocean.  
  
It felt quite satisfying to see Akechi wince and squeeze his eyes shut like it was giving him a headache. Apparently, even the detective prince was human.  
  
When the world righted itself once again, Akira's hand on Akechi's was clad in crimson leather. He couldn't help but realize that his favorite color comprised a lot of Akechi's outfit too. He was his antithesis really. The snowy white military style uniform was the opposite of his shadowy vigilante look.  
  
It was also unfair that Akechi somehow made epaulettes look somewhat sexy.  
  
The blue glow of the Velvet Room door nearby was more calming than it ought to be, but Akira paid it little mind. He tightened his grip on Akechi's white gloved hand and began to tug him towards the escalator.  
  
"Let's go find something to test this on."  
  
With a completely unnecessary flourish, Akira released him and jumped, his boots landing on the arm rail of the escalator. A thrill of adrenaline pulsed like ecstasy through his veins as he rode the railing all the way down and leapt off the end at the bottom with his hair tousled and his eyes bright with pure joy behind his mask.  
  
"Don't keep me waiting, Crow!"  
  
His only response was a delicate sounding snort of derision from up above. A moment later Akechi appeared, walking with poise down the stairs like he were arriving for a grand ball instead of entering the infested depths of Mementos. It was really unfair how elegant and put together he looked doing almost anything. Akira felt like he worked hard for that, and the other boy looked like it came naturally.  
  
"May I see the sword?” Akechi asked, walking up to Akira and smiling that bland, perfect smile. “Is it much different than mine? I admit I have grown accustomed to its lighter weight."  
  
Of course he had. Akechi was too clever to fight like Ryuji, or even Yusuke. Finesse was more his strong point. Akira pulled the item from his pocket, offering it out with something like excitement actually starting to bubble up in him. He was genuinely curious if he'd like it or be able to use it. It was expensive after all.  
  
Akechi accepted the handle of it, and as soon as his grasp on it was secure, he jerked his hand down and to the side in a dramatic arc. The sword hummed into life, jutting out in a gorgeous ray of color that vibrated and glowed with all of the intensity of a magnesium flare. It was gorgeous and palpable, lighting up the dark, cavernous room and throwing them both into harsh light and shadow.  
  
"It certainly seems like an upgrade at least. How does it feel?"  
  
Brown eyes narrowed with concentration and curiosity behind the red mask. It was astounding that he could see the rust color of them from the light of his sword alone. Akechi moved his body, falling into dexterous fighting stances and slicing through the air with that same thrum of otherworldly electricity. Shadows danced along the tunnel walls along with his graceful movements, and Akira found himself staring and wishing desperately he weren’t so impressed.  
  
"Ah, this seems very comparable to my other sword. The weight is ideal and it feels more powerful. I can practically feel it vibrate up my arm. I am eager to see how it stands up to an enemy," Akechi gushed, obviously thrilled. A part of Akira crumbled a bit just seeing that enthusiasm. He only wished he knew what piece of him was falling apart.  
  
He nodded, pulling out his own dagger with an artful little spin and catch. "Well, let's get moving then. You can barely walk through here without tripping on a shadow. Let's see what you've got."  
  
Together they hopped down from the platform and onto the tracks. The sound of crunching gravel beneath their boots filled the eerie silence between them. Akira still didn't know what to talk to Akechi about. The very idea of treating him like one of his friends made his stomach churn unhappily, but he also knew that they needed his trust.  
  
Akira was quite sure a sword wasn't enough to buy that.  
  
As he had predicted, it took only minutes to come upon their first shadow. The dark, hulking shape in the darkness looked somehow more monstrous illuminated by Akechi's sword. Its body appeared to writhe and shift like it were made from a thousand insects or a bizarre sort of oily television snow. The sight caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, but Akechi, at his side, looked determined and untouched by fear.  
  
In fact, a small smile flirted at the corner of his lips before he was suddenly racing forward, his cape flying behind him in a gorgeous furl of blood red.  
  
Akira watched in awe as Akechi ripped the mask from the shadow with ruthless authority. A spray of red and purple and black gushed out across his pristine white gloves and uniform, fading away almost instantly like it had never existed.  
  
The shadow bubbled and blossomed outward, becoming a set of two monsters. Seeing Akechi standing there at the ready, illuminated and radiating challenge, he felt strangely warm around his collar, and his heart raced in his chest.  
  
Oh no. He was hot.  
  
Shame and confusion and appreciation muddled through his system like ink in water, uncurling and snaking tendrils, threatening to change him and his agenda. It was horrifying, and Akira was utterly helpless to it.  
  
He watched Akechi race forward a second time with lust pulsing through him. There was something absolutely mesmerizing in the way Akechi cut down the monsters in two easy slices. The new sword ripped through the air in blinding rays of light, melting its way right through. Efficient and powerful, but messy.  
  
It felt like the first out of character thing he'd noticed about Akechi so far. He liked it.  
  
The brunet turned from his kill towards Akira, his stance effortlessly attractive. He was not even breathing heavily! The bloody stains across his chest were already fading away before his eyes, as they did in this strange place. Akechi’s eyes glittered with a feral sort of joy that he could see even from his place several feet away.  
  
Fuck, he was in trouble.  
  
"It works like a dream," Akechi said, walking over to him with a sway to his gait that made him appear overly pleased. His skin was burned pale by the sword, and his eyes were jewel bright up this close.  
  
It was a wonder he could find his tongue at all, twisted as it was. "I'm relieved to hear it. Come on. Let's find a couple of others before we call it quits. I could use some ingredients."  
  
"Ingredients?"  
  
They began walking the tunnels once again, but this time conversation flowed more easily. Akira explained his efforts to create elemental bombs using the drops from the monsters themselves and how poetic that was. It was unusually empty on this level. The lull in enemies gave him plenty of time to go in depth on the properties certain drops had. It was rare to have anyone interested in what he had to say about his odd supernatural tinkering. The attentive audience was wonderful. He spoke for so long that when they finally came upon another shadow, it almost took him by surprise. Luckily, they found it lurking in a particularly dark corner, ignorant of their presence.  
  
It was a far larger than normal one, but as it finally sensed their approach, its body language changed immediately. It was obviously scared. Akira had seen those panicked movements in enough of them to know that it was aware they could demolish it and had no intention of attacking. Akira felt bad even thinking about it.  
  
He lifted his hand, intent to reach out and still Akechi's arm before he could harm it, but the next moment the terrified shadow gave out a grotesque screech and went bounding in their direction. It barrelled right into the tiny space between them, shoving them both hard in order to get them out of its path.  
  
Akira stumbled to the side, arms pinwheeling comically to keep his balance. Beside him, he could hear the telltale crunch of gravel and a startled 'oof!' letting him know that Akechi had not been as successful in keeping upright. The shadow was gone in seconds, leaving Akira to chuckle and turn, spying Akechi laid flat on the ground with a crabby expression on his face.  
  
It was cute.  
  
His grin broadened at the sight, but he didn't linger. Akira stepped over and offered down a scarlet hand to help him up. It was as Akechi was reaching up that he had a better idea.  
  
The moment Akechi began to rise up Akira lifted his leg and shoved his booted foot down square in the middle of Akechi's chest to gently jolt him back down to the ground. It was the sort of goofy antic he might pull on Ryuji, and completely spontaneous. If it had been his blond friend, he may have gotten a laugh, or a playful glare and shove, but he was not at all anticipating the look of surprise and sudden heat that flared like a wildfire across Akechi's features.  
  
For several seconds, they stared one another down. Terror slithered down his spine, and Akira could practically see a matching tremor in Akechi. What was the etiquette for this? What could he do or say that would make this situation any less embarrassing?  
  
The truth was that it was completely apparent that his weight bearing down over his chest had taken Akechi aback, and something perilously close to lust had consumed him in that split second.  
  
And Akira could not find the will to lift his goddamn foot to save his life.  
  
It was the strangest game of chicken he'd ever played. The longer, they stared the more and more they both became aware that the dynamic between them both was shifting on its axis. Normalcy, even by their standards, was clinging by a thread.  
  
Akira, reckless and idiotic as always, snapped it.  
  
A grin as sharp and wicked as his dagger spilled across his face, and he gently applied more weight behind his leg until Akechi gasped beneath him. White gloved fingers rushed out to grip at his ankle and cling to the laces of his boot. They looked almost clawed. Akira could just imagine the feeling of his nails digging into him through all the leather.  
  
Akechi looked prettier than ever with his hair fanned out around him like a halo and half of his face bright from the light of his sword left fallen in the dirt beside him. Everything felt off, like he was poised on the edge of a building and looking down, breathless and scared and excited all at once. The drop was so tempting, especially when those startled eyes were below him. They inexplicably reminded him of cinnamon, a color that was cozy and inviting, but with a hidden bite.  
  
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, the words leaving him easily and magnanimously. It was the right thing to do...to give him a way out of this madness before it consumed them both. His common sense was screaming at him to stop being an idiot. He shouldn’t be doing this at all. But the magic of this place, of being Joker, and the pure and simple magic of raging hormones had him frozen in place.  
  
Even from his height, he could see that Akechi was having trouble breathing. His inhales were short and reedy, impeded by the weight of his boot pressing down against his sternum. There was something unimaginably sexy about it. It was like he had Akechi's breath on a leash. He could yank or go slack, and Akechi's body would follow those physical orders.  
  
Which was why it was surprising to his very core to watch Akechi slowly shake his head and sink his teeth down into his lower lip. "You don't have to," he whispered, greedily stealing a larger exhale. Akira had to wonder if he was lightheaded from his short breaths and why he wanted this so badly.  
  
But he wasn't going to question it.  
  
Akira nodded back to him to show his understanding before he raised up to his full height. Having Akechi literally beneath his heel felt powerful and heady. Experimentally, he pressed down with a little more force, nervous and half expecting to feel bone give way beneath his meager body weight.  
  
Nothing of the sort happened. The only reaction at all was Akechi scrabbling and clawing at his boot and gasping for breath around a tiny moan.  
  
He had no idea what he was doing. This felt too much like trying to walk a tightrope. The perils of hurting him were on either side, but if could toe the line he could obviously give him pleasure. In his punchdrunk state, the risk felt more than worth it.  
  
He licked his lips and shifted his foot off of Akechi's chest. There was a dirty footprint left behind in the snow white fabric, and the little gold chains clang to the underside of his boot as if desperate to make him stay.  
  
Akira had no intention of leaving. He stalked two steps down his prone body, the crunch of gravel louder still when they were both holding their breath in anticipation. He should feel embarrassed over how easily Akechi spread his legs. He was almost indecently splayed and inviting, every inch of his body begging in silence.  
  
Questions filled his head. Why was he so eager? What was it about this act that turned him on so deeply? Had he done this before?  
  
He knew that asking any of these questions out loud would break the spell. It would likely shoot shame into Akechi's system like a shot of adrenaline to the heart. He couldn't risk it. No. What he should be asking himself was why he couldn't seem to walk away.  
  
Feeling like he was about to get a lightsaber to the knee, Akira caught Akechi's eyes and slowly let his foot descend. Worry needled at him, and a cold sweat prickled along the back of his neck as he delicately pressed the ball of his foot down onto the front of Akechi's pants where a telling bulge was already waiting.  
  
The tightrope threatened to sway. This was dangerous territory. Akira knew how much he and any man he'd met would shy away from such a touch. It took too much trust; trust they could never have in a stranger.  
  
He was not sure if Akechi trusted him or not, but he moaned loudly under the new pressure, spreading himself all the more and grinding his hips up into the pressing weight of his boot.  
  
Akira had never seen anything more blisteringly hot in his young life. Lust scorched through his veins so fast he gasped out loud and clenched his hands into fists to avoid immediately going for his own fly.  
  
"Fuck, you're brave. You like that?" he murmured, lightheaded like he was the one who had someone stepping on his chest.  
  
Power like this was heady. Akechi's obvious and unabashed pleasure was like ambrosia on his tongue. Akira wanted more than just this taste. His inhibitions were falling away to the ground faster than he could keep hold of them, and Akira felt his face crack into a look of predatory hunger as he pressed his foot down harder.  
  
Even through the thick sole of his shoe, he could feel the shape of him, the line of his cock full and solid beneath him. Akechi moaned desperately, his fingers raking along his leg to dig into the skin of his calf. He tugged Akira down more, zealously forcing closer, harder, heavier while he squirmed.  
  
If only he could capture the look on his face and keep it. He had never seen anything so gorgeous, nor had anything given him quite this much pleasure before.  
  
He began to slowly rock his foot against the shape of him, pressing and releasing, changing angles to see what made the other boy writhe the most. Every sound he managed to pry out of him felt like victory.  
  
"I know a secret about you now," he crooned, eyes at sultry half-mast. The double-edged meaning of his words felt positively sinful. He knew more than just Akechi's secret sexual desires. He also knew about his coming betrayal. It felt good to say it out loud, even if it was only to flirt with him in the heat of the moment.  
  
Akira opened his mouth to tease him further, but a dark blur suddenly rushing towards them made the words dry up on his tongue. He didn't even think. He removed his foot and turned, grabbing his gun from his hip and emptying the chamber into the attacking shadow that had dared to interrupt.  
  
The shots were unimaginably loud in the wake of their intimacy, rattling the sexual tension in the air and jarring them both. In seconds, the shadow crumbled to the ground and disintegrated to nothing more than dust. His heart thundered in his chest, not with fear or surprise, but with irritation. Akira glared at the ashy leftover spot, reholstered his gun, and jammed his other hand into his pocket.  
  
He pulled out one of his tinkering creations and threw it at the ground so hard it shattered. A huge plume of smoke filled the space. It created a haze around them, and a heavy tingle of magic settled over them both like a blanket.  
  
When he turned back around, Akechi was still there with wide eyes, but already they were narrowing with intrigue.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Smokescreen," he explained, already letting his smirk slide into place. He moved forward, planting his foot on Akechi's chest again with zero fanfare or warning. His gasp in response was the most powerful and addictive drug Akira could imagine. "It gives us a short time, but we'll be invisible."  
  
He was feeling bold now. The excitement and thrill over killing an enemy along with the memory of just how into it Akechi had been fueled him to do something stupid. Akira took a deep, steadying breath before slowly easing his other foot off of the ground, until the entirety of his weight pressed down over Akechi.  
  
For his part, Akechi went stone still save his erratic breathing, staring up at Akira with a challenge in his eyes. Akira wanted to fucking _devour_ him.  
  
Keeping his balance, he slid his free foot like he was taking a step backwards and carefully pressed it over his cock once again. Beneath him, Akechi fell apart.  
  
His thrashing of pleasure was almost too much. Akira felt like he was intent to buck him off, but the expression on his face was far too genuine for him to believe there was any malice behind it. Instead of end up unceremoniously on his ass, Akira crouched down, moving the foot from his crotch to the ground and and hurrying to undo his fly.  
  
It was embarrassing the way his hands shook. He'd never done this before, but it didn't matter. Something about Akechi goaded him like nothing and no one else. He kept as much of his weight as possible behind foot still pressing down into Akechi's chest, and the moment he got his fly open he reached down and took his cock into his hand.  
  
The soft skin burned against his palm even through his leather gloves, sticky with his arousal and more attractive than Akira felt was really fair. It wasn't right that he was beautiful beneath his clothes too!  
  
The smoke from his bomb swirled and glittered, the light of the saber bouncing off of the undulating tendrils of it. It looked very much like a thunderstorm brewing all around them; a maelstrom that matched the rising wave of pleasure in Akechi.  
  
"Fuck, I like you like this," Akira whispered, voice achingly soft and full of awe. He never stopped moving his fist over him, but he allowed his foot to inch its way upward towards his collarbone. He wished for one crazed moment that he had Akechi naked so that he could see if his clavicle was as gorgeous as the rest of him. He stopped when the sharp, pointed toe of his boot pressed almost like a knife against Akechi's jawline, his heel digging into his chest mercilessly.  
  
The brown haired boy was too far gone, utterly buried beneath his pleasure. He gripped at his shoe like it were a buoy amid this storm, tipping his head just to the side. The sight of Akechi Goro gingerly sinking his teeth into the leather of his boot was a barbed whip of sexual discovery that almost sent Akira flying across the tunnel.  
  
He squeezed down so hard around his cock that he was sure Akechi saw stars. Akira watched him come right there beneath his heel, loud and raw and so filthy that he was suddenly glad that his mask hid the high tops of his cheeks where his blush was scalding and effervescent.  
  
Akechi couldn't breathe. He sucked in desperate, needy gulps of air until Akira took pity and removed his foot. He shifted to straddle his waist instead, purposefully keeping his weight off of him, and drank in the sight that was Akechi thoroughly and utterly debauched by his own hand. He was flushed a euphoric, sugary pink and splayed uselessly in his previously pristine outfit now dirty with shoe prints.  
  
The only sound between them was Akechi's ragged breathing and the droning buzz of the light saber nearby. The smoke around them slowly dissipated, letting the darkness of Mementos crawl back into the space. When brown eyes finally opened to blink up at him, Akira already had a softer smirk on his face and a hand pressing to Akechi's chin.  
  
He cast a playful glance towards the buzzing sword and turned back with a sarcastic raised brow.  
  
"We may have to work the _kinks_ out, but I think you would agree it's _perfect_."  
  
The glare he received in return was absolutely worth the joke, and kissing it from his face was even better.  



End file.
